


the customer is always right (and sometimes crazy)

by Leyenn



Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Marriage, Multi, POV Outsider, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/pseuds/Leyenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are not his usual Saturday afternoon customers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the customer is always right (and sometimes crazy)

The younger man waves his hand over the latest board they've selected to look at and points to the pair of gold bands in the leftmost corner, each inlaid with a strip of platinum.

"How about these?"

"Well, they're nice." The woman's voice is non-committal, at exactly that tone that means she's not satisfied with his choice. All women seem to know that tone. Years of doing this job have made him suspect they're born with it. "I don't know, maybe something a little simpler?"

The man - he assumed this was the fiancé, when they first came in, but now he's not so sure - sighs.

"I'm not good at this. I've never had to pick out rings before." The older man, pretty handsome with that greying hair and a pair of sunglasses hanging around his neck, gives him a look: he looks back, and something passes between them that's blatant and completely incomprehensible. "Well, they don't exchange wedding rings on Abydos."

The older guy raises his eyebrows. "Let me guess, cows?"

"Mastadges, actually."

Older Guy frowns, like he's trying to remember what they're talking about. "Those big ugly things with all the hair and," he makes a bizarre and possibly obscene gesture, "the tongues?"

The woman sighs, but she's obviously trying to fight a smile. "Guys, could we get back to the point?"

Younger Guy turns back to her. He looks grateful for the interruption. "Please, let's do that." His fingers - long and quite attractively dexterous - hover over the board again. "Okay, what about these?"

He's pointing to one of their most popular choices: a set of undecorated platinum bands, thinner than most of the others on the board, the woman's ring the same width as the man's. "We offer free engraving with those," he suggests, trying not to suggest that he'd really like them to make a decision, even if they've been there for nearly an hour already.

The woman smiles. "That sounds good. Daniel, what do you think?"

"You mean we have to pick what to have engraved, too?" She rolls her eyes and Younger Guy smiles. "Sure, that's nice. Jack?"

"I like 'em."

Younger Guy - Daniel - and the woman exchange a look, and a smile, one that quickly turns into a grin. The woman looks back across the counter at him.

"I think we want three pairs of these. Oh, I guess you'll need to measure us-"

Older Guy - Jack - clears his throat loudly enough to be heard across the store. "Carter?"

She looks at him like she hasn't got her hand in his, fingers tucked together into his front jeans pocket. "What?"

" _Three_ pairs?"

Daniel smirks. "You were listening when we talked about this, right, Jack?"

"Of course I was listening. I always listen." He looks furtive. "I just don't always remember that I listened."

"Three pairs of rings, Jack."

"Okay, okay." Jack digs in his back pocket for his wallet. "You two know this is gonna bankrupt me."

Daniel snorts. "Please, I'm the one who opens your bank statements."

"And you were the one who insisted he wanted to buy the rings," the woman - Carter, they seem to be calling her - says, with a twinkle in her very blue eyes. "Besides, are you saying we're not worth it?"

He's hesitant to interrupt, but there are other customers milling and they're short staffed for a Saturday afternoon. "I'm, er, going to need measurements," he says.

"Oh, sure." Daniel pulls his left hand out of his pocket. Carter unhooks her hand from Jack's jeans and offers it up next to Daniel's. So they're the happy couple after all. Why they need three pairs of rings is beyond him, but the customer is always right, so he pulls the sizer off his belt and picks what looks like a good match to Carter. She's got quite elegant hands, but plenty of callouses and any number of scars to match; he wonders what she does for a living.

"Jack," Carter says, as he's measuring Daniel's ring finger - a nine, nice and slender, but there's a scar of his own that looks pretty old across the back of a knuckle - and she nudges him in the ribs.

"I'm a ten," Jack says. Daniel ignores the manhandling of his fingers and looks over at him.

"How many years ago was that?"

"I'll have you know I'm as sprightly now as I was then."

"Aside from the knees."

Carter smiles. "And the memory."

"And the-"

"Fine, fine." Jack puts his wallet on the counter and holds out his hand. "I'm telling you, ten."

Actually he's closer to a ten and an eighth, but a ten will fit comfortably, so he doesn't really see the need to mention that. They finally walk out with a receipt for three sets of the plain platinum bands, promising at least someone will be back next weekend to discuss the engraving. As they walk out, Daniel's arm slides around Carter's waist; Jack throws his arm around Carter's shoulders and rests his hand on the back of Daniel's neck.

He wonders if he can swap shifts next weekend. He'd quite like to know what words those three could possibly choose.

*


End file.
